


Why Can't We Say Goodnight?

by princessmickey



Series: Hey Mickey! [5]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: It's also pretty fluffy, M/M, Married Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Somnophilia, THEY LOVE EACH OTHER OKAY?, ass worship, but nothing too extreme, even though it's filthy, just an entire fic of Ian admiring and worshiping his husband, they're married, this is the softest porn I have ever written
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23766892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessmickey/pseuds/princessmickey
Summary: "He turned his head to see Mickey sprawled out on his stomach arms tucked under the pillow beneath his head, snoring away, blissfully unaware to the rest of the world. He'd obviously kicked the blankets off of himself at some point in the night because there he lay, gloriously naked, every bit of his perfect, pale skin exposed to the warm afternoon glow filling up the bedroom."Ian wakes up and takes a moment to get a good look at his husband, and reminisces the previous night before he decides to wake Mickey up.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Hey Mickey! [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625089
Comments: 29
Kudos: 223





	Why Can't We Say Goodnight?

**Author's Note:**

> This fic fills two of four requests from one of my readers: Overstimulation and Somnophilia. (The others are coming soon!)  
> I have this idea in my head that Mickey is used to being woken up violently thanks to his tumultuous childhood. I wanted to change that, because I think everyone deserves to be woken up with their husband/wife eating their ass.   
> Sue me! 
> 
> Title taken from Hey Mickey, by Toni Basil, obvi.

Ian woke up in waves, little bursts of wakefulness that were quickly dampened again by the enticing pull of sleep. Every time his eyes would open the room was a little brighter, a little warmer. He blinked slowly into awareness again, body feeling pleasantly heavy with the weight of a full night's rest.

He turned his head to see Mickey sprawled out on his stomach arms tucked under the pillow beneath his head, snoring away, blissfully unaware to the rest of the world. He'd obviously kicked the blankets off of himself at some point in the night because there he lay, gloriously naked, every bit of his perfect, pale skin exposed to the warm afternoon glow filling up the bedroom.

Moments like these were rare. Ian was usually the last one up, as sleeping soundly and for long periods of time was something that he wasn't sure Mickey would ever be able to get used to, not with how he'd spent the majority of his life who until then sleeping with one eye open. It wasn't until times like these, after Ian had thoroughly worn him out, Mickey was able to sleep deeply.

Thoughts of the night before flooded Ian's mind as he let himself have a moment to just look at his husband, take him in without any hesitation or explanation. 

**

They'd been at it for what seemed like _hours_.

Ian had Mickey spread out on their bed, thighs played wide to accommodate Ian kneeling between them as he slipped his pinkie alongside the three fingers he'd already been thrusting into his lover for the past hour.

Mickey'd already come twice. 

Once from Ian's mouth, and again when Ian had held him down and fucked him rough and fast with two fingers, pulling another earth shattering orgasm out of him almost _too_ soon. 

It had nearly brought Mickey to tears, made him gasp and hiccup slightly, lower lip trembling as he shook through it, voice nearly cracking with how high and sweet he'd moaned. 

Ian had just beamed at him proudly, pressing sweet little kisses to his shaking thighs as he whispered about how Mickey was "such a good boy, the absolute best boy, sweetheart, look at you."

Mickey had just whined pathetically when Ian's fingers didn't stop, only slowed to a torturous slide in and out of him, the minute twist to Ian's wrist making him twitch every. Single. Time. 

He was sweating, whole body covered in a thin sheen of it, dark hair plastered to his forehead. It pooled in the hollow of his throat. Gathered behind the bends of his knees. The small of his back. 

And Ian still didn't stop. Just kept on going, in, out, gasp, moan, "good boy," in, out. 

"Doin' so good for me, Mick." 

Mickey swallowed hard and nodded, clutching at the sheets beneath him, knuckles white. 

"Bet I can get you to come again," Ian breathed, crooking his fingers up, making Mickey jolt and cry out. "Yeah. I could. I could get that pretty cock spillin' all over your cute lil tummy again in no time."

Mickey looked at him with an equal mix of trepidation and interest, thighs falling open just a fraction more in assent. 

Ian smirked and got to it, slipping in a third finger before he started fucking them again steadily in a slow, smooth rhythm that had his fingertips brushing Mickey's prostate with every thrust. 

It wasn't long before Mickey was tensing up, face contorting in pleasure so acute that it was bordering on pain, mouth falling open into a perfect 'O' as he shook through it, coming all over his stomach just as Ian had promised. 

It felt like it lasted for minutes. Years. 

He collapsed back against the sheets, panting and gasping like he'd just ran a marathon. 

He cracked his eyes open to see Ian smiling warmly down at him, one big, warm hand rubbing his thigh soothingly. 

Mickey made a soft, content sound and weakly reached out for his husband. Ian immediately went closer, hovering over him to place a gentle kiss to his slack lips. 

Mickey sighed and shifted beneath him, then cried out into Ian's mouth when the redhead crooked his fingers again. Mickey'd been so high he hadn't even noticed they were still buried inside of him. 

He whined and shook his head frantically, fingers digging into Ian's shoulders.

"No?" Ian cooed sweetly, dragging his fingers over Mickey's sensitive insides again. 

Mickey nearly sobbed. 

"I bet you can." Ian goaded. "I _know_ you can, Mick. You know why?" He asked, catching Mickey's watery gaze and holding it. 

Mickey's eyebrows drew inward. 

"Because you're a good boy, aren't you? And good boys do what they're told."

Ian felt, on his fingers, the full body shudder that ran through Mickey. 

"I can't," Mickey pleaded softly, swallowing hard. 

He wanted to. 

_Fuck_ , he wanted to. 

He wanted to be good for Ian. 

"Yes, you can," Ian whispered. 

Mickey hesitated only a moment before nodding and taking a deep, steadying breath. 

He could do this. For Ian. 

Ian's smile was worth it, warm and sweet, those big puppy eyes lighting up. Mickey returned it, albeit a little shaky. 

Now here they were, with Mickey spread open and wound so tightly that he thought he'd snap, Ian kneeling between his thighs with four fingers buried as deeply into Mickey as they could go, trying diligently to wring a _fourth_ orgasm out of him. 

Mickey keened when he felt the fourth digit join the others, stretching him just a little bit too close to his limit, but _fuck_ , it was so _good_. 

Every little touch to his body felt like it was amped up to a thousand. Ian's lips on his jaw. The sheets against his sweaty, heated skin. The light brush of Ian's bangs across his cheek, even. Everything felt so heightened. 

Every little jolt of pleasure from Ian's fingers moving inside of him felt like lightning coursing through him, hot and fast and angry with how intense it was, but so deliciously good that the pain was worth it., 

His muscles ached, not only from being held in position so long but from the three previous times he'd already come. He was shaking. Weak. Held taut like a string on a bow. 

"There you go," Ian breathed, hot and damp against his throat and Mickey almost swore he felt it like something physical brushing his skin, so finely attuned to the man above him that he was practically vibrating with it. 

"You're doing so good for me, princess. So good. Sweet boy. Letting me play with you like this." 

Mickey's could only clutch desperately at Ian's back, blinking rapidly up at the ceiling as his eyes started watering with just how _much_ all of it was. 

But still, it wasn't _too_ much. 

Ian never took him anywhere he didn't wanna go, even if he didn't know he wanted it in the first place. 

Ian would never take him too far. 

He'd always bring him back. 

" _Fuck_!" Mickey cried out, harsh and loud as his orgasm suddenly crashed over him with no warning at all, filling him up with white noise, shattering him into a million pieces. His nails dug in deep, dragged harsh red lines down the length of Ian's back as he crumbled beneath him, gasping, moaning, sobbing with how powerless he was to it. 

Awareness slowly seeped into him, like water trickling from a faucet, filling him up until he blinked his eyes slowly open, finding his lover there above him, passing a dampened cloth over his stomach and chest in gentle strokes. 

"Hi, pretty baby," Ian whispered, smiling fondly down at him as he dropped the cloth onto their pile of clothes beside the bed. 

"Hi," Mickey whispered back, and, was that his voice? It couldn't be. He'd gone a little hoarse with how loud he'd shouted. Fuck, the neighbors were probably gonna call the damn cops again. How would they explain this? They couldn't keep using the 'stubbed toe' excuse. It was getting old. 

He was shaken out of his thoughts when he felt Ian gently brushing his hair back from his forehead. 

"Come back to me," he whispered and Mickey smiled. 

"I'm here." 

"There you are," Ian breathed, pressing gentle kisses to Mickey's cheeks, forehead, nose and lips. 

The brunette just smiled and laughed, breathless, exhausted in the best way and lighter than a feather.

***

Ian let his eyes travel over Mickey, taking in every little detail he could, committing it to memory. 

He's never seen the other man look so damn peaceful. 

Then it hit him. 

Mickey was safe enough to sleep soundly now. He didn't have to sleep lightly with his fist tucked behind his knee anymore. 

He felt the overwhelming desire to kiss him, but didn't want to wake his beautiful lover, so he pressed his lips to Mickey's shoulder gently instead. It was sleep warm and soft. He smelled like home. 

Once he'd gotten a small taste of his husband, Ian couldn't deny himself another soft press of lips, a little more inward this time. 

Then another one, a little farther down. 

On and on, one small kiss after another, it went on until he found himself having to shimmy down the bed to get his mouth on more of that perfect skin. He wanted to taste every inch of Mickey. 

When he placed a kiss to the very base of Mickey's spine he felt the other man begin to stir, shifting beneath Ian, sighing softly before he stilled again. 

Ian waited, one heartbeat. Two. Three. Twenty. He continued on, pressing kisses over the curve of his lovers ass, down one side, up the other. He pressed a kiss to each little dimple at the small of Mickey's back. His scar from all this years ago that he'd gotten right after their very first kiss. He kissed it twice for good luck. 

Three times.

I. Love. You. 

Mickey made a small, curious sound, a little 'mmmph', but remained still. 

One of Ian's hands came up to brush over one of those perfectly round, pale cheeks to gently pry him open. He kissed his way down slowly, reverently until he reached his destination, placing the gentlest of kisses over Mickey's hole. 

"Oh," he heard Mickey sigh above him and can't his hips backward just a fraction of an inch. His breathing was still heavy, even. He was still asleep. 

Ian didn't want to wake him. He was so peaceful in that moment. So serene. Warm and safe and kept. He was Ian's. Only Ian got to see him like this, at his most vulnerable. 

He pressed a firmer, slightly more insistent kiss to Mickey's hole, letting his tongue flick out against it briefly in a little kitten lick.

He felt Mickey shift again, sigh, burrow deeper into the pillow beneath his head with an incomprehensible grumble. 

Fuckin' precious, Ian thought as he went back to his task of giving Mickey's entrance feather light kisses, just a whisper of tongue here and there as he felt Mickey sigh and soften beneath him again, sagging into the bed heavily. 

Ian hummed softly and, when Mickey loosened up, slipped his tongue just barely into him. 

He did this a few more time until Mickey was wet and open and gave easily under his lips and tongue until Ian was well and truly thrusting his tongue into his lover, slow and hot and slick. 

He felt Mickey's body come online one muscle at a time, starting with his back, bowing in a graceful concave, the tensing of his thighs. He felt Mickey's hole clench around his tongue as he arched back against him for more on instinct alone. His little lover lifted one knee, opening himself up for Ian as he let out breathy sigh. 

Ian looked up the length of Mickeys body to see him reach out and press one hand to the headboard, bracing himself there as he turned to look over his shoulder at Ian with sleepy blue eyes and pink cheeks. 

"Mmmn, E?" He said, voice sleep rough and so, so sweet. 

Ian pulled back just enough so Mickey could hear him when he whispered, "mornin', sweetheart." 

Ian watched a slow, sleepy smile spread across his husbands face, long lashes lowered to his cheeks that darkened a shade pinker at that. "Mornin'," he whispered, scrubbing at his face with a sleep-heavy hand. "You couldn't wait 'til breakfast?" He raised a perfectly arched eyebrow and grinned crookedly at Ian, more awake in that moment than he had previously been, once the situation actually clicked in his sleepy mind. 

Ian just shrugged and smiled innocently, blinking slowly up at his husband as he leaned in and licked a long, slow stripe over his hole, causing Mickey to moan and bite his lip, hips rolling back to meet him. "Nope," Ian said, popping the 'p' when he pulled back again, licking his lips. 

"Well then, get back to work, soldier," Mickey teased, wiggling a little beneath him and Ian's eyes were immediately drawn to just how _thick_ a year of marriage had made Mickey. 

"Sir, yes, Sir!" Ian gave him a mock salute and dived in, tongue finding it's rightful place within his lover. 

Mickey dropped his head back in a quiet laugh that trailed off into a high, breathy moan.

Neither of them ever did leave the bed that day, but that was perfectly fine with them. 


End file.
